


Reading is Fundamental

by bsl



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bumblebee - Freeform, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Filth, One Shot, Smut, sin - Freeform, smutshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7409722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bsl/pseuds/bsl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yang is left to her own devices on a Saturday. Faced with indeterminable amounts of time being bored, she decides to take matters into her own hands, with the help of Blake's favourite book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reading is Fundamental

**Author's Note:**

> This is a great big THANK YOU to all my followers on Tumblr. I was going to post this to celebrate 200 followers, but then all of a sudden I got seventy new ones in a few days, so it's my belated "oh gosh I have 260 followers" thank you instead.
> 
> If any of you want to follow me I'm on tumblr @BeeEssL

It was Saturday afternoon, and Yang found herself in the dorm with nothing to do. Her homework was finished and stacked ready for submission the next week; Ruby was walking Zwei in Vale; Weiss was practicing her swordplay with Myrtenaster in the gym; and Blake was… Well, she had no idea where Blake was actually, but she would have put money on the library if someone was to instigate such a wager.

Regardless, Yang was bored. Bored and alone and all by herself.

Her eyes skittered around the room looking for something to entertain herself. All of their weapons were gone, and aside from messing with Weiss’ strategically organised paperwork (which was just plain suicidal and she knew it) she was coming up empty. Her eyes settled on the bookshelves lining the walls on her and Blake’s side of the room. _I shouldn’t_ , she thought, but her legs carried her across the room and she squatted down in front of the shelves, regardless. Her girlfriend had dozens of books on every available surface around the room, piles on top of the shelves, two stacks on the desk, and some had even started to migrate to the shelf mounted on the wall near Ruby’s bed. Yang couldn’t help but wonder how Blake had managed to bring them all to Beacon in the first place. She slumped onto her butt in front of the bookcase and let her fingers trace across the leather and paper bindings, her eyes carefully scanning the titles in hope for something to catch her eye. There were dozens of classics, including ones she had been forced to read in school, but nothing that immediately jumped out at her. In a wave of frustration she threw her arms up over her head and fell backwards to lay prone on the floor.

“How is it possible to be so bored on a Saturday?” She said, the sound leaving her lips only cementing how empty the room was. She twisted onto her side to lift herself off the floor, but stopped as her eyes snapped to a pile of no more than half a dozen books tucked under the middle of Blake’s bed. Of course she hid them, it was only sensible that Blake would keep the more “interesting” literature within reach and out of the way of prying eyes.

She grabbed at the pile and pulled them out from under the bed. One by one, she turned the volumes over in her hands, reading through the blurbs and flicking pages to read a few paragraphs part-way through, but none of them snagged her attention in the way she hoped they would. The last book in the stack piqued her interest, it was a particularly old and ratty looking novel with dog-ears littering the pages throughout. It wasn’t in bad condition from apathy, the opposite in fact: this book was clearly well loved. Yang could practically see Blake’s fingerprints littered across the pages from gripping and turning over and over again. Yes, this was the one.

Yang stacked up the other books and slid them back through the dust to their home underneath Blake’s bunk. “Thanks, buddies.” She winked at the pile before hopping up from her belly and climbing onto her own bunk with her new treasure in hand. She dropped the book onto its spine and let it fall open where it felt comfortable. As the pages parted in a sea of metaphors she lifted the novel, lying down with her head propped up on her pillow. She flicked to the beginning of the chapter and lay quietly, a little smile on her face and a warm fuzz glowing in her chest that normally only showed itself when Blake was around.

Her eyes scanned the words, and images of a young faunus couple driving a rickety pickup truck across the dusty expanse of Menagerie were conjured behind her eyes. One of them had red hair, the other a brunette. One of them with a fox tail, the other with bear ears. The night fell quickly and stars speckled the sky above them. The driver’s eyes began to droop, and their passenger suggested they stop to rest- nobody was going to find them any time soon. They both climbed into the back of the truck to lie down and stare at the stars, covered in a ragged blanket. Yang considered flipping back to the beginning of the book so she could read the whole thing, but there was a reason that the book fell open so easily to the chapter she was on, and she wanted to find out what it was.

The couple talked under the cover of darkness. They pointed out constellations in the sky and in each other’s eyes, staring and hoping and wishing. The redhead reached and tucked brunette hair behind an ear, then left their palm resting on a soft, dark cheek. They exchanged whispers of love and kissed deeply, heartbeats ricocheting around their chests.

“Oh.” The word fluttered from Yang’s lips, an understanding of the folded corners on pages, why the book was so obviously adored and the spine was cracked just so to fall open at these pages. Her eyes kept devouring the words, digesting them and imagining touching and caressing Blake so poetically.

She bent back the book to hold it in her left hand, her right skirting down her chest, briefly pausing to tug at her nipple through her tank top. A quick burst of air escaped from between her teeth in an exaggerated hiss, followed by a rumbling moan in the back of her throat. Yes, good. Her fingertips skirted down over her stomach, trying to ignore the cut of her abs and imagine it was Blake’s soft belly beneath her hands instead. Her nails grazed at the skin below her navel and left soft pink lines across her flesh, letting the words in front of her eyes pour into her body in syrupy drops of lust.

Her hand rested on the waistband of her shorts and she paused, her eyes scanning the room. She was definitely alone, just her and Blake’s favourite book, and in a breath and a moment her fingers skipped under the elastic and into her underwear.

The pad of her index finger tapped lightly against her clit and her whole body shuddered. She had time to start slow, and she wanted to savour the images in her mind, the motions of characters who were quickly beginning to manifest as herself and Blake covered by a patchy blanket under the stars.

She rolled her fingertip around her clit, smiling at the tingles it sent through her body and the wetness already making itself apparent. She slid her fingers down and brushed them against swelling lips and heat and slickness. Her skin itched and the bottom of her feet began to tingle in a way that she knew would soon turn into a sweet burn. Her fingers danced against her hot flesh, delicate touches teasing out shudders and quick breaths that quietly mirrored the gasps of the bear faunus on the pages in her grip; that mirrored the heavy breaths that escaped Blake as Yang’s tongue rolled against her in the dead of night. Her eyelids dropped shut as she put more pressure against her clit, short bursts of lightning shocking through her legs, but she forced her eyes open and locked them onto the page, following the text as slowly and carefully as the fingers rubbing soft circles between her legs. A gasp and a moan slid out of her lips, followed sweetly by her partner’s name as her eyes closed again.

“Blake.”

Her ears caught the _snick_ of the door closing, but she never heard it open. She jumped as her eyes snapped open in panic and the book fell gracelessly from her hand and tumbled to the floor with a noisy flutter, catching the edge of Blake’s bunk in its descent and spiralling out across the floor.

Blake stood at the door with a sly smile peeling across her lips and a pleasantly surprised glint in her eye. Her fingers slowly turned the latch on the door, and Yang’s heart jumped into her throat at the sound of the lock slotting into place. Confident hips swaggered towards the bunk, and Yang started to tug her hand from her shorts.

“I never said stop.” Blake’s voice was dangerous, and it reached into Yang’s lungs and dragged a filthy moan into the air around them. A dark eyebrow crooked and careful hands placed themselves on the edge of the bed before she silently sprung upwards, lifting herself onto the mattress with ease and sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Those piercing golden eyes made Yang feel like a feast ready to be devoured, and she was determined to make it the most delicious Blake had ever had.

Yang’s hand settled back into the soft motions, curls and flicks and strokes that she wished were being performed by Blake’s masterful fingers, and a mist of sweat settled across her skin. She watched Blake’s face quirk, her smile flickered like the edge of her semblance and in an instant Yang was so much closer.

“Take it off.” Blake muttered behind her teeth, her fingers wringing themselves in her lap to keep herself from reaching forward and making Yang fall apart in her hand. Yang’s breath hitched and she tugged her hand out of her shorts to grab the hem of her shirt. In one fluid motion, the orange fabric slid up her stomach, pulled over her breasts, and was jerked over her head. After being untangled from thick golden hair it was flung towards the end of the bed. Blake snatched the tank top out of the air and held it close to her face, breathing in the intoxicating scent of the woman so close to orgasm.

Yang didn't wait for more instructions, pushing her fingers under tight shorts and into damp underwear to rub rough, unforgiving strokes against her tight bundle of nerves. “Oh dust,” she gasped and groaned; she felt Blake’s eyes greedily roving across her chest. They followed the line of her arm down to the apex of her thighs, the motions of her hand hidden from sight

“Yang, you are so beautiful.” Blake was swallowing every moment: the breaths puffing from petaled lips; the careful blush tickling pink at cheeks and ears and painted red across her chest; the strands of gold glued to her face by sweat. Yang was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, the most riveting book she had ever read, filled with promise and joy and descriptions that could not be properly assembled in her mind.

Yang felt beautiful, revered and ethereal under Blake’s longing looks and the grip of familiar fingers around her tank top. She felt untouchable, but she so desperately wanted Blake’s hands all over her, caressing and kneading and tugging and overwhelming her with _Blake._ Her hips canted and she pushed two fingers inside herself, a shameless moan erupting at the moment of relief it gave her. An echo forced itself from Blake’s throat as she watched that hand drive home over and over, the familiar motion obscured by those infuriating shorts.

“I can't wait to watch you come, firecracker.” Blake’s voice was thick and deep, and as Yang tilted her wrist to angle her thrusts into her front wall her feet began to burn.

“Please- oh Blake.” The blonde thrashed against the sheets, her hand unrelenting in its thrusts and her hips bucking to meet every one with fervour. “I… I…” She stammered, her body was tight and she was teetering on the edge trying so hard to fall.

Blake dropped the tank top and sprung forward. Her palms pressed at the inside of Yang’s knees and forced her legs apart, and Yang squeaked with pleasure at the show of control Blake had over her. In a flash of white, teeth sunk into her inner thigh and a hot, frenzied mouth sucked at the flesh. Yang cried out into the room, not an ounce of care for who may have heard her: she was sure in the fact that if anyone else had Blake Belladonna biting their thigh as they masturbated, they would be making the same level of noise. Her body snapped, her back arched, and at the peak of her orgasm she was sure she could see constellations speckled across a dark southern sky and feel a rough woven blanket draped over her skin.

The mouth on her thigh eased off, teeth releasing in favour of peppering nips, licks and kisses around the ravaged bite mark. Yang’s hips bucked into her hand a few more times, letting the last eddies of her pleasure ripple into her palm before drawing it out of her underwear. Blake snatched her wrist and the attentions of her mouth danced from strong thighs to wet fingers, licking and sucking the digits with her eyes locked onto Yang’s face.

“Iloveyou.” Yang garbled, her mind and body shattered and littered across the bed.

“I love you, too.” Blake smirked from between Yang’s legs, her lips brushing against the tips of wet fingers. “I would also love for you to put these fingers in me as soon as possible. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life.”

Yang swallowed, the lump of renewed desire in her throat making the process exceptionally difficult. “That was the hottest thing I have ever heard in my life.” She choked. Her muscles were soft, relaxed, and denying her the strength she needed to take Blake in her arms, throw her down into the bed and make her scream. It was clear her girlfriend had other ideas when she peeled her tight black pants down her legs, discarding them over the edge of the bed with hastily unbuckled boots, and straddled the blonde’s hips; naked from the waist down. She stared down at Yang, her predatory gaze telling the blonde everything she needed to know.

“You have thirty seconds to catch your breath.”


End file.
